


THE BATH

by omg_okimhere



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 08:59:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11145174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omg_okimhere/pseuds/omg_okimhere
Summary: Just some blatant fantasy fun, inspired by a glimpse of a very well worn S7 Bronn in behind-the-scenes videos. Complete as is.





	THE BATH

THE BATH

“Is this how you gird yourself when you come before your Queen, Ser Bronn?”

Daenerys casts an imperious eye over the dusty, leather-clad man at the foot of her throne.  The wars are upon them, and this knight has come highly recommended by her Hand, Lord Tyrion.  Nevertheless, he might have made use of a bit of soap and water enroute to his first audience at Dragonstone.

“Your Grace,” rumbles Bronn, taking a knee briefly whilst hiding an amused twist of his mouth.  When he rises, he drags his vision slowly from her slippered feet up her compact, silk-draped form to her regal, silver-haired head.  He likes the look of this queen much better than the one in Kings Landing.  Looks like this one could use a bit of fun, though. 

“Well?” challenges Dany, unaccustomed to anyone ignoring her admonishments.  Even his stance is lacking in respect, though she must admit her body reacts to his casual, masculine, lead-with-the-hips style.

“What?” retorts Bronn with mock perplexity, looking down at his battle-and-road weary attire.  “Too dusty for you?”  He slaps his thighs, raising a small cloud, making his point.

“Exactly, ser.”  Dany tries to ignore the sardonic blue eyes in his craggy face.  “The bath houses are in the north wall of the lower courtyard.”

Bronn holds her gaze, more bold than he has any right to be.  “I was hoping for something closer.”  A beat goes by.  “You want to see me clean, don’t you?  Your Grace,” he adds, making the title sound somehow intimate and mocking at the same time.

A deep voice, seething in anger, booms out of the darkness behind the dragonglass dais.

“Shall I kill him now or later, Khaleesi?”  Jorah Mormont takes two clanking steps into the torch light, hand on his sword hilt, hatred in his eyes.  Daenerys belays her personal knight with a raised hand.

“If he can present a scrubbed appearance to me the next time I see him, he may live.”  She waves Bronn from the room, but not before he treats her to a tongue-in-cheek smirk.

She watches his lithe swagger as he strides out, then motions one of the squires close for whispered instructions.

******************

Through the rising steam, Dany descends the marble steps into the near scalding bath.  The heat invigorates her, a heat that might deter most.  But she is the Unburnt – no flame can touch her, no searing liquid can scar her flesh.  She closes her eyes, drifting in semi-consciousness, waiting – while the water begins to cool. 

A deferential knock on the portal brings her thoughts back to the surface.

“Yes?” she calls over her bare shoulder.

The squire’s head appears through a crack in the door.  “I brought what you requested, Your Grace,” he blurts out, eyes averted. 

“Very good.” 

The hinges creak, the door opens wider, and in strides a confident figure.

“Shall we try this meeting again, Ser Bronn?”  The hint of a smile plays about her mouth, as Dany relishes the look of surprise and desire that comes over him.

Already sweating in his layers of clothing from the humidity , Bronn pulls in a deep, satisfied breath.  He’s going to enjoy serving this Queen.  Very much.

“I pledge you my sword,” he promises gravely, reaching for his belt.  “By all the Gods, old and new.”

 

THE END

 

 


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